Keep It Secret
by canis-ursus
Summary: On their seventh year in Hogwarts Snape and Lupin met two unregistered animagi. The chance meeting leads to dates in the dungeon, secret DADA lessons, and unexpected love.
1. Blood

**Keep It Secret**

**Disclaimer:** Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall belong to JK Rowling.  Hogwarts and its premises are also her lawful property.  I only borrow them for this fic.  Kyra and Moira Boyds and some professors and nurse are OCs.  

**Chapter 1**

The barn owl swooped and soared with an even more reckless grace than the wolf had ever before seen in any birds of the night, a flitting shadow against the grey-blue night sky.  The wolf watched it hurtling through the branches in a glad, rather self-satisfied show of strength and agility, the sound of its wings flapping carried far even in the windless night.  The wolf watched.  

He was not looking for prey, that bird.  He seemed to be flying for the sheer joy of being aloft.  The wolf was slightly perplexed.  It was against all that he knew of birds—creatures of efficiency and speed—that this particular barn owl should reveled in such seemingly senseless flight.  Something was not right.

But the bird seemed tired now.  With careful, measured movements he began to lower himself, a flap of wings at a time, onto a rotting log by the forest floor.  The wolf watched entranced behind a clump of holly bush, lowering his own frame onto the ground, his whole body taut and ready.

***

He could forget.  When his wings were spread out to the wind, and the world opened below him, he could forget anything.  He could forget that he did not belong, not even in his own House.  He could forget that he was an outcast.  He could forget that nobody wanted, needed, loved him.  He could forget the shame, the disappointment, the fear.  He could forget the names they called him.  Snivelly.  Nose.  Fish-belly.  He could forget.

Stars above him, shadows beneath.  The lake a silver stretch of silk under the full moon, the forest an expanse of rippling darkness.  So much to see with his sharp eyes, so much to hear with his keen hearing.  Rats scurrying to avoid him.  The faint gallop of the centaurs in the forest.  He could fly forever.  He could soar and maybe reach the brilliant orb in the pale night sky.  Maybe he could run, maybe he could escape.  He could fly away and leave every pain behind him.  

But he was exhausted.  His shoulders ached from the frenzied motions needed to propel him to the dizzying flight speed that he preferred.  His back, where his wings jointed, throbbed.  He still tended to forget that birds have lower body mass, lower level of energy.  He should rest, or maybe Unchange.  The weariness should help him to sleep a deep, dreamless slumber. 

Down…  Down… Down he flew, concentrating his exhausted mind on reaching the ground.  

Maybe he was too tired, or maybe the sound of his fluttering wing muffled all noises.  But the pain on his back came so suddenly, unexpectedly, and his shriek—wild and shrill—rang out in the chill air.

***

The wolf sprang from behind the bush with a growl and his sharp claws dug deeply into the warm flesh of the owl, tearing white-speckled brown feathers.  He loved it when the owl writhed frantically in his grip.  The bird struggled to take to the air, but the wolf slammed him hard to the ground.  Blood spattered hot and thick onto the wolf's grey muzzle, driving the animal into blind, hungered rage.  He bent to tear at the bird's neck…

…but was shoved away from his prey by a blur of bristling black on white.  The wolf whirled around in fury and found himself face-to-face with a snarling Siberian husky, clearly not full-grown yet, and thus smaller, though stouter, than the wolf.  His heart racing and his blood heating with wrath, the wolf leapt and charged at the dog.  The husky nimbly evaded the attack, and rounded the narrow clearing to stand next to the wounded bird.  The wolf let out another deep, threatening growl, but the husky only barked at him, undaunted.  The wolf lunged at the husky again; both canines now on their hind legs, swatting powerful claws at each other.  The wolf managed to swipe his paws at the husky's neck, tearing white fur and leaving a trail of blood on equally snowy bib.  The husky fell on all four with a pained yelp, and the wolf dove for another attack…

…but before he could sink his teeth into the husky now crouching on the ground, the wolf felt a powerful slap on his side that sent him nearly flying to the other end of the clearing.  He looked back to find a brown bear plodding steadily his way.  Panicked, the wolf snarled at the opponent, but the bear did not seem to heed the raw menace in the wolf's voice.  The bear roared and swatted a huge hairy paw at the wolf.  Howling in pain, the wolf grabbed in vain at the bear's neck, thwarted by thick, matted fur there, but managed a deep scratch on its shoulder instead.  The bear growled and lunged for another attack, but this time the wolf retreated, tail tucked between his hind legs, his belly close to the ground.  The bear made a half-hearted attempt to chase him, but the wolf was a swifter runner and soon he was engulfed by the shadows of the forest.  

***

The bear lumbered back to the rotten log under the tall fir trees that bordered the forest.  The husky was nowhere to be seen and in its place was a girl, wearing the black cloak of Hogwarts student, a Ravenclaw badge on his breast.  The bulky shadow of the bear swayed strangely on the mossy ground before turning into a more slender, straighter one, the shadow of a girl, standing and running to her friend.

"Kyra!  Are you all right?" she asked as she grabbed the other girl's arm.  "Oh.  Your neck…"

"It's not as bad as it looks," said the girl called Kyra.  "I've…I've licked the wound."

Her friend made a face but looked carefully at the ghastly scratch wound on Kyra's neck.  "Well, the bleeding's stopped."

"What about you?" said Kyra, looking over her friend.  "Moira!  You're hurt too!"

Moira followed the line of Kyra's finger and stared disbelievingly at the bloody tear on her shoulder.  She winced.  "I didn't feel that," she said.  "Oh, we're in serious trouble, Ky.  How are we going to explain these wounds to Madam Quinine?"

"Oh, we'll think of something, Mo," said Kyra impatiently.  "But look!"  She pointed at the blood-mottled earth and the unconscious figure on the ground.  The barn owl had disappeared.  On the ground there now sprawled a boy, his dark, lank hair falling in an unruly mass over his pale face.

"A Slytherin," whispered Moira, kneeling beside the boy.  "Do you know him, Ky?"

Kyra reached out and touched the damp, darker spot on the boy's shoulder.  "He's a seventh year," she said absentmindedly.  "Snape something or other.  Assistant to Professor Wolfram.  I've seen him once or twice in Potions class.  Mo, I think that wolf's hurt him pretty badly."

"What do we do now?" whispered Moira.  "We couldn't just leave him here."

"Of course not, you, silly.  We have to take him to the hospital wing."

"Now _you're being silly," shot Moira. "How are to explain why we're still out this late at night to Madam Quinine?"_

Kyra bit her lip thoughtfully.  "You're right.  Maybe we could just leave him outside and let Madam Quinine find him."

"Well," muttered Moira dubiously.  "Better that than leave him here out cold like this, I guess.  That wolf might return anytime soon.  Your wand or mine?"

"Me first," said Kyra.  "I'll tell you when I get tired."

Kyra took out her wand and pointed it at the unconscious boy.  "_Mobilicorpus!" she said with a flick of her wrist.  A shot of bluish white light flew from the wand and soon the boy was slowly lifted into the air, his robe hanging limp under him, his hair falling back, his hands dangling…_

"No, no, no!" yelled Moira.  "Put him down!"

"What?" said Kyra, but she lowered her wand and the boy landed gently on the ground.  

"He might've broken his arm or his shoulder might be dislocated.  Things will only get worse if we try to move him without doing something to his arm first."

Moira knelt beside the boy once more and took out her own wand.  She tapped it gently on the boy's arm and whispered "_Ferula!"  As bandages snaked around the boy's arm and shoulder, tightly and securely wrapping it into a splint, she looked back at Kyra, who nodded and grinned her approval.  _

"Good thinking, Mo," she said with a wink.  "Ready now?"

Moira nodded as she straightened up.  Once again Kyra flicked her wand and the boy was elevated into the air.  With another sweep of her wand, Kyra sent him slowly cruising in the direction of Hogwarts, looming dark against the pale, moonwashed sky.

***

"That was not just an ordinary wolf, Ky," said Moira as they walked to the castle in the shadows of the trees.  "Do you remember third year DADA class?  With Professor Cage?"

"Who wouldn't," grumbled Kyra, moving her wand slightly so the boy in her charge would not bump into a low branch.  "He threatened to turn the_ whole class into toads if we so much as forget the color of chimaera in mating season.  He had us memorize the entire book!  I'll never forget the headache."_

"And you're a Ravenclaw," commented Moira rather bitterly.  "He was nastier with us Hufflepuffs  Lots of detentions and lost of House points…  But, anyway, do you still remember how to tell a werewolf from a true wolf?"

Kyra shook her head.  "I forgot.  Something about the snout, the fang…"  She looked up at Moira.  "Besides, I didn't get a good look at the wolf.  Did you?"

"Well," muttered Moira doubtfully.  "I did.  And…  I might be wrong…  But I think it was really a werewolf we saw tonight."

"A werewolf?" cried Kyra.  "A werewolf in Hogwarts!  Mo, do you understand what that means!  We could all be in danger!  We could all be turned into werewolves!"

"Watch out!" yelled Moira.

*tbc*


	2. Owl

**Keep It Secret**

**Disclaimer:** Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, and Poppy Pomfrey belong to JK Rowling.  Hogwarts and its premises are also her lawful property.  I only borrow them for this fic.  Kyra and Moira Boyds as well as some professors's are OCs.  

**Chapter 2**

Moira and Kyra shrieked as they saw the Slytherin boy bump head first into the trunk of a sturdy oak tree.  Kyra's wand wavered and the boy fell with a thud to the ground.  

The two girls ran toward the boy and knelt beside him.  He was lying on his less injured side, moaning.  Kyra glanced at her friend worriedly.  "Now what do we do?" she mouthed.  

The boy twisted against his confining bandages, groaning louder.  His eyelids fluttered under his knitted brows and his eyes were suddenly open.  He gazed, open-mouthed, at the two girls leaning over him.  "What…" he croaked confusedly.  Then he saw the bandages around his shoulder and arm and comprehension dawned in his eyes.  

"What did you do to me?" he said in a surly growl.  "Get these things off me!"

"You're injured," explained Kyra in a trembling voice, Moira nodding her assent.  "A wo…  Something … attacked you, and we found you in the woods.  We're taking you to the…"

"You're not taking me anywhere," cut the boy shortly.  "I'll tell Filch you're out of bounds this time of night if you don't get these filthy rags off me and be off."

Kyra frowned at Moira, who raised an eyebrow at the boy's sharp tone.  "Well," said Moira, "go ahead.  And while you're at it, why don't you explain the reason while _you_ are nowhere near the Slytherin House in the small hours of morning?" 

The boy shot her a venomous look out of his dark eyes.  He tried to sit up with much difficulty, and Kyra looked at Moira, but the Hufflepuff girl only shook her head almost imperceptibly.  Finally the boy gave up trying to move on his own and glowered at the younger girls.  "Are you going to sit there and stare at me like that all night?" he said sullenly.  

Kyra sighed and gave her friend another glance.  "It's getting late, Mo," she said softly.  "And he's not the only one wounded here."

"But if he's going to shout his way into the castle, there's no way we could sneak in without Filch swooping down on us," hissed Moira.  "I'm thinking of knocking him unconscious so we can bring him to hospital wing without much of a fuss."

"You're not stupid enough to still think of going to the hospital wing, are you?" came the sarcastic query.  

"He's right, you know," said Kyra.  "We'll never be able to explain this."

"We don't have to.  He's the one who has some explaining to do," said Moira, pointing at the boy.  "We're going back to our Houses once we get rid of him."

"I don't think he will leave us out of his story, do you?" said Kyra.  

"Well, if you two have worked it out in your limited brain cases that _I _am here, maybe I can hazard a suggestion," piped in the boy loudly.  "Why don't we go our separate ways and forget…"  The sentence was unceremoniously cut short by Kyra's hand firmly pressing over his mouth.  The boy struggled, making muffled noises behind the girl's palm, but Kyra was oblivious.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered, leaning towards Moira.  

Moira nodded silently.  "Hide!" she murmured, grabbing Kyra's arm.  Between them they managed to drag the skinny boy behind a leafless bush.  They peered warily beyond the tangle of dead branches at the gloom, keeping the writhing boy between them.  

"Ouch!" hissed Kyra suddenly.

"What?" whispered Moira.  

"He bit me," said Kyra, glaring at the boy, who scowled back at her from above his clamped shut mouth.

"Will you be quiet!  We can't risk you yelling," Moira said sharply to the boy.  "It could be Filch out there.  I knew we were making too much noise back there.  That wolf positively howled when I …"

A sharp look from Kyra made her stop.  They turned their gaze to the boy still pinned helplessly between them.  He had gone still, his eyes wide.

"If you promise not to start yelling again, I'll let you go," whispered Kyra.  The boy nodded frantically, but not without a fierce glower.

"There was a wolf?" he whispered immediately after Kyra lifted her hand from his mouth.  His eyes traveled swiftly up, focusing through the intricate web of branches above him and finding the moon, pale gold and perfectly round.  "A wolf," he said with a note of satisfaction. 

"Yes, and he was attacking you,"  said Kyra.  

The boy frowned; a sudden, uncontrolled panic flared in his eyes.

"You were a bird, I know," said Moira flatly.  

"And what are you going to do about it?" whispered the boy with the desperate vehemence of one who was cornered.  "You can't prove it.  No one will believe you if you …"

The two girls exchanged glances and shook their heads sagely.  "He's helpless, isn't he?" said Moira and Kyra shrugged.  

Kyra reached and plucked something from the boy's cloak and brought it under the boy's nose for closer inspection.  "Barn owl feather," she said, her lips echoing Moira's grin.  "Should have been brown, except for the bit of blood."

The boy stared at the feather with large horrified eyes.  "You're not going to…" he started, an odd pleading note in his voice.

But Kyra had suddenly put her finger on his lips, silencing him.  Both girls suddenly stiffened, fixing their eyes beyond the bush, at a couple of small figures running swiftly over the frost-dappled grass.

"Oh, perfect," groaned Moira.

The boy squirmed to see behind his shoulder, but the movement made him wince in pain and he chose to glare questioningly at Kyra instead.  

"Mr. and Mrs. Norris," whispered Kyra ominously.  She glanced at Moira.  "Should I?"

"I'll do the honor," said Moira with a mischievous grin.  She crawled gingerly around the bush, and for a while all Kyra and the boy could see of her was the hem of her cloak sweeping the moist dead leaves and twigs.  Then there was the sound of breaking branches and heavy foot falls.  

"You should see this," Kyra whispered with a smile.

The boy scowled at her, and with an apologetic grin, Kyra helped him shift so he could see what was happening across the wall of branches they were hiding behind.  The boy's eyes grew wider and wider with disbelief when he saw the massive bulk of a bear trodding away onto the grass, moonlight glinting silver on the tips of silken fur, muscles rippling gracefully with every thudding, powerful step.  The boy blinked and looked speechlessly at Kyra.

"Watch," said Kyra, obviously enjoying herself.  

The bear walked nonchalantly on a collision course with the pair of cats.  The cats suddenly stopped dead in their tracks and, crouching low, started spitting and hissing ferociously at the bear, their tails erect, bushy as a pair of feather dusters.  The bear sat on its haunches, lifting both of its forelegs, and the cat hastily turned and ran away, kicking frost behind them, screeching into the wind.  

Kyra laughed, and beside her, the boy was smiling.  A reluctant smile at that, but a genuine one nevertheless.  They watched the bear plodded back with a look of almost humorous self-satisfaction on its face.  The bear melted into the web of shadows cast by the trees, and for a while there was a bear's paws, a bear's torso, then suddenly there was a pair of hands clad in red jacket sleeves, a glimpse of a black cloak falling to brush the ground and out of the shadow came the freckled, chuckling face of Moira.

She came back to where Kyra was waiting to give her two thumbs up.  "Excellent!" said Kyra with a broad smile.

Moira settled beside Kyra and looked into the face of the boy still staring at her, his jaw slack.  "So you see," said Moira, "we're like you."

The boy swallowed hard.  "We?" he squeaked.  "She too?"  His eyes gestured at Kyra.

Kyra nodded.  "I'm a Siberian husky," she said helpfully.

"But…but," stammered the boy.  "It can't be.  You're only fifth years!"

Kyra looked at Moira.  "Slytherins," she said with a shrug.

"Typical, I know," agreed Moira.  "Never take kindly to people being better than them." 

The boy gave both girls a deadly glare.  "Spare me the insult and tell me how you can master the animagus transfiguration skills?"

"That can wait," said Kyra.  "The important thing now is to bring you to the hospital wing.  That shoulder needs looking after."

"I'm fine!" snapped the boy sharply.  "I can take care of myself.  Besides, are you deaf, or thick, or both?  Didn't you hear me say that we cannot all of us come into the hospital wing with claw marks all over and no plausible explanation to offer."

Kyra's hand went up involuntarily to her neck.  Now that the alarm had passed, she could feel the three streaks on her neck throb painfully.

"Ky," said Moira, reaching to touch her friend's hand.

"I'm all right, Mo," said Kyra.  

The boy snorted.  Moira whirled angrily at him, then sighed in exasperation.  "What's your name?"

"What?" shot the boy, not expecting the question.  "I see no reason…"

"I'm Moira Boyd," said Moira.  "She's Kyra, also a Boyd, but not my twin and not a relation.  Your turn."

"Severus," spat the boy.  "Snape."

"Nice to meet you, Snape," said Moira.  "Now that we know each other, here's the deal.  We'll walk to the castle and we'll see you at least into the main entrance.  You can go anywhere you like from there, and we'll forget this incident ever happened.  But we know your name and we could as easily turn you in, as you could us.  You know what they do to unregistered animagi."

Severus made to open his mouth but Kyra cut him short, "Still, if you faint, or drop dead …. then off to the hospital wing we go, explanation or no explanation."

"I shudder to think what Madam Pomfrey would think of me, should she see me in the company of … females … such as you," scoffed Severus.

"Well, think what you'd do to our reputation if our House-mates found out that we've spent the night behind the bushes with a Slytherin, and one with a foul temper at that!"  countered Moira hotly. "They would at least forgive us if your face were … well-proportioned, but as it is…" 

Kyra giggled at the sudden rush of color on Severus's face.  "Oh, well, Mo," she said.  "No need to keep him any longer here.  It's getting chilly.  Let's just see him to the castle."

The two girls rose as one.  

"The bandages," said Severus, before adding, in a forced sort of way, "Please."  

"They stay on," said Kyra firmly.  "Until the castle."

*tbc*

A/N: There is no specific mention in canon as to who the caretaker of Hogwarts was when Snape and Lupin were still students there.  But since Fred and George later found the Marauder Map in Filch's office, I hazard to guess that Filch was already a caretaker then.  Mr. Norris-the-cat is an imagined character, and Mrs. Noris-the-cat might or might not be the Mrs. Norris in Harry's days in Hogwarts though I don't believe any "true" cat can last that long.


	3. Wolf

**Keep It Secret**

**Disclaimer:** Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, and Poppy Pomfrey belong to JK Rowling.  Hogwarts and its premises are also her lawful property.  I only borrow them for this fic.  Kyra and Moira Boyds as well as some professors are OCs.

**Chapter 3**

Without a word Severus skulked into the entrance that led to the dungeons as soon as they reached the Main Hall.  Kyra and Moira had walked quietly behind him, nervously listening to any noises that might signal the coming of Filch or of his two cats.  They also kept an anxious eye on Severus, who, despite his claim that he was fine, swayed and staggered all the way to the castle, though he derisively refused all offer to help him walk.  Behind the closed double door of the main entrance, Moira had relieved him of his bandages and he had to lean for a while on the wall, eyes closed, his whole body trembling.  But the wounds on his shoulders and arm seemed to have stopped bleeding.

"And thank you for saving my life.  Very nice to meet you," whispered Moira ironically at Severus's retreating back.  

"He'll be sorry we didn't get him to the hospital wing," muttered Kyra.  "Come morning, those wounds are going to put him through hell.  Aftershock, Dad always says."

"Well, what about you?" said Moira.  "Those are not kitty scratch on your neck."

"And I bet your shoulder's smarting now," replied Kyra. "But it's not so bad, really.  I've got something in my room for just this kind of thing.  Dad insists on my bringing it.  Horrid stuff, stinks like a pig sty, but very effective."

"I don't think I want to put it on me then, thank you," said Moira, grimacing.  But suddenly she stopped, gripping Kyra's hand.  "Ky …  What if it was really a werewolf I saw in the woods?  What if it turned us both into…"

Kyra turned pale.  "He didn't bite you, did he?" she whispered, horrified.

"I don't think so.  But everything happened so fast and … I'm not sure.  Did he bite you?"

Kyra shook her head uncertainly.  "No, no.  I would've remembered it if he did," she said.  Her eyes glittered in the dim light.  "We have to find him, Mo."

"What?" hissed Moira.  "No way.  I'm not going to risk my life looking for that beast.  He might not bite us before, but he may if we provoke him.  Best leave him to … "

"To who?  Dumbledore?" asked Kyra.  "That way we have to go and look for him first and that werewolf would've gone too far already."

Moira scrutinized her friend's resolute face.  "That figures.  Loss of blood," she muttered.  "Ky, let others take care of the wolf.  We've saved one life already, and look what it got us.  Besides, what are you going to do once you catch that monster?"

"Well, first we have to find him.  I hope you hurt him badly enough so he won't get too far.  Then we can wait until he changes back into human, then we …"

"What?  Pounce him and wrestle him and tie him up?  Or kill him?"

"No!" retorted Kyra.  "You are bloodthirsty, are you, Mo?  No.  OK, we tie him up, but then we bring him to the nearest branch of Ministry of Magic.  There's one in Hogsmeade, remember?"

"How would they know he's a werewolf once he turned into a man?" said Moira suspiciously.  "And how are we going to explain how we come to find him?  'Oh, we just found him in the corner of the garden, sir, digging for bones.'  They would believe _that_, I'm sure."

Kyra bit her lower lip pensively.  "You're right," she said.  "Maybe that's not such a good idea anyway."

Moira nodded emphatically.  

"But at least we should find out who he really is," said Kyra.  "So that when the next full moon comes, we're ready."

"Ready for what?" said Moira, aghast.  "You're not thinking of…"

"Ready to tail him and make sure he doesn't hurt anyone," said Kyra, firmly and quickly, as though she was afraid she might change her mind.

"Kyra," breathed Moira incredulously.  "That's … That's …"  Her expression suddenly changed from horror to excitement.  "That's a brilliant idea!"

Kyra grinned.  "That way we can change and go outside at least once a month.  That should be exciting!"

Moira looked suddenly solemn.  "Ky," she said.  "For a long time I wondered what it is that made you qualified for Ravenclaw.  Now I know the answer."

Giggling nervously, the two girls sneaked out of the door and, keeping themselves carefully hidden in shadows whenever possible, walked back to where they fought with the wolf.  

Kyra pointed her wand at the ground and whisper, "_Lumos!_"

In the light streaming from Kyra's wand, the two girls could clearly see flecks of blood, darker spots of brownish red on the forest floor.  With one sinuous movement, Kyra bent, and suddenly there was only a vigorous Siberian husky who ran in circle around Moira's legs once, before sniffing the ground excitedly and, letting loose a salvo of enthusiastic barks, launched herself over a low tangled bush, and dashed into the shadows.  Moira grinned to see her friend so thrilled, and with a shrug she went down on all four, except it was not her hands that touched the ground, but a pair of massive, brown paws. 

***

"The Shrieking Shack," muttered Kyra, wrapping her cloak closer around her and shivering.  

"Who would've thought," whispered Moira.  "What do you think he's doing there?"

"Licking his wounds, maybe.  Besides, it's almost six already.  Maybe he's beginning to return to normal."

"Do you think we should come in?" asked Moira in a tone that clearly said she had no intention of entering the supposedly haunted house.

"I think so," said Kyra.  "I don't like this anymore than you do.  But I'm afraid that the wolf can escape through another way that we can't see from the outside.  We really must get in.  Besides, the wind's picked up.  Better to have a wall between us and the cold."

"You're right," hissed Moira, her teeth chattering.  "But I think we should change ourselves again once we're inside.  That way he wouldn't think we're human and try to bite us."

"Good thinking, Mo," said Kyra.  "Come on."

They went around the house to find any opening, and finally found a window that gaped like a tunnel into darkness, all traces of panes and glass gone.  They climbed in carefully.

There was only darkness inside, save for the fiery light that seemed to come from a room at the end of the hallway.  The husky and the bear walked silently, gingerly, over rotted, crumbling planks.  The husky turned before they get into the room and entered another chamber that adjoined the room with the fire.  When both animagi were inside, they could see that there was a ragged hole in the wall and through that hole, the room with the fire was quite plainly visible.

The wolf was there, lying near the fire licking the wound on his shoulder.  He lifted his head for a while, sniffing uncertainly at the air, before his head slumped tiredly on the floor and the only movement was the uneven rise and fall of his chest.

The fire was small and flickering when Kyra and Moira went into the adjacent room.  In another hour there was nothing left but glowing ember, and only the pale light of winter sun filtering through the cracks in the wall and the open window illuminated the prostate figure on the dusty floor.  

Moira jolted awake when she felt Kyra's fingers prodding her.  Kyra had turned into a girl again, and Moira quickly did the same.  "What?"

"He's changed back," whispered Kyra, motioning toward the next room.  "Look."

Moira hoisted herself to the level of the hole on the wall and peered.  A shaft of sun ray fell on the seemingly lifeless heap of tattered, dirty rags on the floor.  

"I think you killed him with that wallop," whispered Kyra.  

Moira's eyes widened in horror.  "No…" she whispered.  

"But if he's really dead then we have no worries, right?" said Kyra.  "He can't bite anyone else."

"I don't want to be a murderer, Ky," hissed Moira.   "Oh, Merlin…  Do you really think he's dead?"

"Ssh!" shushed Kyra.  "Someone's coming."

They could hear the floorboards creaking in the corridor.  The two girls inched back into a darker corner in the room, trying not to make too much noise.  They saw a figure walking along the corridor, with her wand pointing forward, gushing light, and a small bag hanging from her shoulder. 

"Madam Pomfrey," hissed Kyra.

The nurse walked into the room with the fire, uttering a strangled cry.  "Remus!"

The figure on the floor stirred weakly.  "Mum?" he called woozily.

"He's alive!" whispered Moira, trying very heard not to jump up and down with joy.

"Ssh!" scowled Kyra, resisting the urge to clamp her hand over Moira's mouth.  "Do you know who he is?"

Moira shook her head, her eyes glittering and wide.  

"Remus Lupin, friend to the celebrated James Potter and Sirius Black."

Moira's eyebrows rode higher into her mass of black curls.  "The hot Sirius Black?" she said in disbelief, "has a werewolf friend?"

"Oh, Mo, shut up!" hissed Kyra.  "She'll hear you!"

It was a good thing Madam Pomfrey was too busy clucking over Remus.  The two girls could hear her shrill voice from where they were hiding.  "Oh, my goodness! What happened, child?" she said as she lifted Remus to a sitting position.  "Bruises across your chest, claw marks on your shoulder.  What have you done to yourself?"

"Nothing, nothing, Madam Pomfrey," said Remus, only he sounds as though he was speaking through cotton balls stuffed into his mouth and his voice was very faint.  "It was … a rougher night … than usual, that's all."

"Look at all this blood!" said Madam Pomfrey, lifting Lupin's unresisting hand.  "It's all over your nails and knuckles.  You've never hurt yourself anymore since year five."

"Please … Madam Pomfrey," said Remus, sounding exasperated.  "I think … I could use … a bath.  Please."

"Oh, I'm sorry, child.  It's just …  This is so unexpected."

"I'm sorry," whispered Remus thickly.  

"No need to apologize, Remus," said Madam Pomfrey.  "Now, do you think you can walk?"

"I could … try."  With that he pushed himself from the floor, but lost his balance before he could stand up straight; he swayed and fell back into Madam Pomfrey's arms.

"Maybe I … should crawl," said Remus with a bitter attempt at humor.  "Like a wolf.  Four legs … easier."

"Don't say such things!" snapped Madam Pomfrey.  She fumbled in her bag and came up with a small phial full of scarlet liquid.  "Here, drink this."

She tipped the content into Remus's open mouth.  The boy swallowed slowly, before smacking his lips and smiled wanly.  

"That's nice," he croaked, but already his voice sounded stronger than before.  "Is that a poison, to speed up my death?  Usually your potions taste horrible and smell even worse …"

"I think you're delirious, Remus Lupin," said Madam Pomfrey, but she sounded rather glad.  The easy banter showed just how much the two of them had known and trusted each other.  "Now, I'll help you stand up, and we'll go quietly to the hospital room."

She rose and pulled him gently to his feet, before putting one hand around his waist, supporting him as he stood, blinking and gasping, holding one hand over his bruised ribs.

"That's it," she said.  "Easy now.  Slowly.  Are you all right?  Dizzy?  Light-headed?"

"I'm fine," said Remus, though his face looked as white as bedsheets.  "You do have more of that potion, don't you?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and smiled.  They started to walk slowly down the corridor, to an unknown passage beyond the hallway, unaware of two pairs of curious eyes following their every movement.

"He looks awful," whispered Moira guiltily.  "I shouldn't have hit him so hard."

"You were only protecting that bird … I mean Severus, and me," said Kyra.  "Do you know what this means?"

Moira shook her head, still staring at the odd couple shuffling slowly away.  "What?"

"This means that we can't go on with our plan to keep an eye on him every full moon," sighed Kyra.  "If Madam Pomfrey knows about him, then Dumbledore must have known about him too, and that means that he's here with the Ministry's permission.  Although I can't understand why they should admit a werewolf."

"But he's so nice," murmured Moira.  "I never thought …"

Out at the end of the still dark corridor came the the echo of soft laughter.

"And a happy Christmas to you too, Remus dear."

*tbc*

A/N: I am taking liberties with the lunar chart here and assume that the full moon happens on Christmas eve.


End file.
